


La Folie a Les Deux

by sonnetlock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, France - Freeform, French Kissing, Honeymoon, Husbands, M/M, Smut, also there're a few inside jokes, mostly with baguettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonnetlock/pseuds/sonnetlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock go on honeymoon in the French countryside. Work is entirely prompted by hideouspumpkin's affinity for the phrase "give me the baguette".</p>
<p>Happy Birthday my dear <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Folie a Les Deux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hideouspumpkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideouspumpkin/gifts).



Despite popular belief, there are actually a few things in this world which can, in fact, make Sherlock Holmes smile. For instance, the warm color of his newlywed husband’s hair when the glow of the setting sun reflected off of it, was very close to the top of this list. They were sitting together on the back porch of the rental cottage, sharing a bottle of champagne (one of the dozen Sherlock insisted on selecting himself because “if you think I’m going to let my husband drink mediocre champagne on our honeymoon…”). Sherlock had turned in his chair so that he could hang his feet over John’s armrest, resting them in his lap. John brushed his fingers absentmindedly over and in between Sherlock’s toes as they looked out over the lavender fields which bordered the property, watching the sun try and decide if it was ready to set yet or not. 

“Shut up” 

“I didn’t say anything, love”

“Yeah well you were thinking it, I could tell”

"What was I thinking then?”

“About how right you were for wanting to go to Aix for the honeymoon, and that I was wrong for having ever argued against it. Because it’s become obvious now that this was the perfect choice and I know you’re just loving the gloat of it all.”

“Ah. Well. Yes, I mean no, well yes. No, I wasn’t thinking that actually. But yes, now that you mention it, this is pretty damn perfect if I do say so myself.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. John returned the look and leaned over to give Sherlock a quick peck on the lips before getting up out of his seat to stretch. Sherlock stared in admiration and wonder as John yawned and reached out his arms. A small flash of his stomach showed when he stretched and when John caught Sherlock staring intently at it, a small blush colored Sherlock’s pale cheeks. He took John’s offered hand and stood up too. 

“It’s getting late, we should head out now if we wanna make it to the shop before they close” 

“John, shops are boring. Husbands and champagne and sunsets are interesting. We have to stay here.”

“We have to eat Sherlock. And we’re out of food. So shop it is, are you coming?”

“Ooh now there’s an idea”

John chuckled at the innuendo but that didn’t stop him from putting firm hands on Sherlock’s shoulders and facing him towards the direction to leave. “March”, he said, and he punctuated the command by smacking Sherlock’s behind. 

Sherlock yelped and nudged John back. They walked back inside to the front of the house to grab their coats, just in case it got cold on the walk home. 

 

****  
“What d’you wanna have tonight?”

“You.”

“For dinner, Sherlock. What do you want to have for dinner?”

“Oh”, said Sherlock as he made a show of pretending to look pensive for a moment before smiling and shrugging; “Still you”. 

John reached up to kiss Sherlock’s cheek before replying, “Sorry love, not on the menu quite yet. Here, let’s get this, and then we’ll get some cheese too”

“What is that?”

“It’s bread, Sherlock”

“It’s long and thin and pointy. Bread isn’t long and thin and pointy.”

“Baguettes are”

“How impractical”

“They’re good, French people eat them all the time”

“Seems unnecessarily phallic if you ask me”

“They’re not- Oh. Hmm. Ha, yeah, guess they sort of are. We can just get croissants instead, ca marche?  
“Oui”

****

It's amazing how something so familiar can seem so phenomenal. Back inside the cottage they were still smiling from their candlelight picnic in the backyard. They started taking off their coats, neither one in a hurry but neither taking his time either. Dinner was done, out of the way, and they knew what they wanted now. Even better, they knew they could have it. They could always have it, from now until forever, and any opportunity to reaffirm that fact was a happy one in John's opinion.

He walked slowly toward Sherlock who was just finishing hanging up his coat in the small hall closet. He slipped his arms around Sherlock's waist, crossing them and grasping his own wrists because that's just how thin Sherlock is. He pulled a little tighter and felt Sherlock exhale with him. Still facing forward, Sherlock, having finished storing the Belstaff, placed his hands over John's and leaned back into the embrace, turning his head behind him to meet John's with a kiss. Their lips were cold from being outside in the night, but they quickly warmed each other with slow interlocks and just the smallest teases of tongue slipping in here and there. The kissing then quickly grew heated and Sherlock turned in John’s arms so they were facing each other. Two steps and John was against the wall, helpless under Sherlock pressing closer and closer. John felt how hard Sherlock was, groaned, and began slowly moving his hips in languid circles. Sherlock met his shallow thrusts, increasing the pace and the intensity. As their breathing began to quicken John found a moment between deep kisses to breathe out "Bedroom. Now."

With a wicked smile Sherlock pulled away as if he were obeying, only to move down to nose along John’s jawline until he reached that delicate spot on the edge of his neck and collarbone that he knew drove John mad, and begin to suck and lick, while still moving his hips to match that rhythm. John's eyes fluttered shut and he was lost. Sherlock kept going until suddenly John’s hands were in his hair, yanking his head back. 

"Oh no you don't. When I say 'bedroom now' that means now. Do you understand?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir"

"Captain"

"Yes, Captain"

Sherlock's emphatic response sent John overboard. He growled and with his fingers still tangled in Sherlock's hair, he whipped them both around, slamming Sherlock into the wall. He tilted his head and pulled Sherlock in for a kiss that was deep, rough, and desperate.

"Damn straight. And don't you forget it."

After a hard, purposeful thrust of his hips into Sherlock's, John finally backed up, giving Sherlock space to break away from the wall. John held out his hand and Sherlock took it. John took Sherlock's hand in his and looked at it for a moment before raising it up to kiss the recently placed golden band around his finger. Sherlock beamed and John lowered their hands again, smiling as he continued to thumb the ring. With fingers intertwined they dashed to their room at the end of the hall.

Once there, Sherlock squeezed tightly on John's hand clasped in his and used it to pull john close to him again as he spun around with John clutched in tight. But John was in no mood to take it slow.

"Bed" he growled with a grin, and Sherlock obeyed,throwing his shirt to the floor as he climbed on top of the king size.

"Trousers" John said next, and Sherlock swung his legs to the side, raising his hips just enough to pull his trousers and pants off in one fell swoop. John smiled and gave a curt head nod of approval.

"Look at you, you gorgeous thing" John marveled. "Do you have any idea, any at all, how beautiful you are?" He drank Sherlock in, the full sight of him leaning back on his elbows on the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor, legs slightly spread, naked and pale, angular and soft, was almost more than John could take.

Sherlock's cheeks and chest flushed red at John's praise, and all he could do was smile warmly back at him. Their moment here stretched on and on, enveloping them both in the kind of comfort that comes from expressing the truest of devotion. 

Finally John broke the spell and refocused. He needed to be on top of Sherlock and needed it now. There was nothing more pressing, more urgent than his need for Sherlock's skin to be under his own. He stripped off his shirt and trousers as fast as he could, tripping when he realized he forgot to take off his shoes first. Sherlock laughed when John nearly fell over, and the rumbles shook Sherlock's shoulders, chest, and abdomen to the point where John got distracted all over again watching.

With one last look at Sherlock sprawled on the edge of the bed John stepped out of his pants and lunged for him.

John had meant to land in Sherlock's lap to straddle him but the force of his eagerness sent them both backwards so that John was lying directly on top with Sherlock on his back. Sherlock rolled them over so that John could hold him. He threaded his arms around Sherlock's back, over his neck and into his hair. He rubbed down Sherlock's shoulders, to his lower back, before finally gliding his fingers down and around that beautiful arse, which he cupped and massaged firmly, reverently. At this, Sherlock bucked forward and the pressure this put on both of their cocks pressed together was glorious. Sherlock wanted more, so he bucked again. And again. John pulled one hand back up to thread the curls at the base of Sherlock's neck and used them to pull Sherlock in for a deep, demanding, kiss, just as Sherlock began rocking his hips against John's faster and faster.

John was getting close but it was too soon. "Not-oh God, right there,-yet. Wait, stop."  
Sherlock slowed and looked down at him, planting a kiss on the tip of John's nose. He understood immediately; John wanted this to last. So did he.

"Nothing personal, love" John said softly. "You're just too good at getting me there. If only you weren't so bloody attractive"

Sherlock's smile was suddenly electric and his whole face lit up. Without another word he rolled off of John and dashed out of the room. Before John had a chance to ask why, he was back.

On his head was a black polyester beret that John had bought the day before, intending it to be a gag gift for Harry.

"There, now how's that for less attractive? No one actually looks good in these things, they're ghastly"

"Sorry love, but for the first time it looks like The Great Sherlock Holmes might be wrong about something. Because you happen to look even better than before."

"You can't be serious, I wasn't really going to keep it on"

"No really, it's quite…" Johns eyes were solid and dark as they scanned up and down at the sight of Sherlock standing naked, hard, and beautiful before him. Something about the addition of the hat was an unexpected turn on for John, it added a layer of romanticism to it all that, being a romantic, he absolutely adored.   
He licked his lips. "…quite good"

"It's not. I'm taking it-"

"Sherlock, wear the damn hat"

Sherlock rolled his eyes at that but the smile didn't leave his face. He climbed back onto the bed, kneeling at the end of it. John sat up against the headboard, spread his legs, and tapped his thigh in a "come here" sort of way. Sherlock crawled onto his lap with his knees bent at either side and threw his arms around John's neck as he kissed him. Soft and sweet at first, their lips barley touching and only the slightest hint of tongue, until gradually shifting as John pulled him closer and slipped their tongues together. Sherlock opened his mouth slightly more, and John responded by taking even more of him in. Their lips were a rhythm that their tongues were the beat to and every breath was a shared one. Finally they broke apart gasping for air. John pet the beret on Sherlock's head as he spoke.

"Now that, is what I call French kissing"

"Mmm c'est vrai mon cherie, voulez-vous voir un peu plus?

"Mon dieu, oui"

And with that Sherlock slid his arms down John's chest and with all the grace he always has, slid himself back down the bed, leaving a trail of kisses from John's neck, past his chest, over his stomach, before landing at the edge of John's groin between his thigh. Sherlock reached up and wrapped his hand around John's leaking prick, sliding it slowly in firm, lengthy strokes up and down, driving John mad in the best way possible.

"I seem to remember something being said earlier about baguettes…" Sherlock said as he inched his mouth closer and closer to John's tip. "And I have to say, I didn't really understand all the fuss that the French seem to make about them. Well, until now of course." He planted a soft kiss on the head of John's cock and looked up again from under his long eyelashes. "You're my favorite kind of baguette, John" and with that he took all of John in his mouth at once, wrapping his tongue around the base as he pulled back slowly up the shaft. He repeated the motion several times as John came undone underneath him. John wrapped his fingers in Sherlock's hair, applying only softest pressure, the sort of tug he knew Sherlock liked.

"Oh, yes, Sherlock my god that's- oh- right- yes, yes like that, there yes"

John's hips began to rise so that he was slowly but surely taking control and fucking Sherlock's warm mouth. Sherlock hummed in approval and began to move his head faster matching the pace John was setting. Just as John started to moan, Sherlock pulled off completely.

"Not quite done with you yet" he said as he crawled back up John. Once their hips were aligned he pressed his erection against John's and they gasped at the warm friction between them.

John reached down and took them both in his hand. Thanks to the wetness from sherlocks mouth and a significant amount of precome from them both, he was able to glide his hand easily around them, stroking slowly but firmly as he twisted his wrist up and down. Sherlock ground his hips ever so slightly in response.

"Do you know what I'd like to do now?" John asked, a grin on the edge of his slightly parted lips. 

"Mmm what's that?" Sherlock answered.

"I'd like" (he stroked) "Very much" (stroked again, harder) "to be inside you". 

At this Sherlock leaned down and kissed John hard and fast before rolling off of him and onto his side. He procured a small tube from the bedside table and passed it to John. He then turned over onto his stomach and turned his heard toward John. 

"Ready when you are" Sherlock said with a wink. His eyes were blown with lust and John could see how badly Sherlock wanted him. John also knew full well that that look was copied on his own face. John's cock twitched in anticipation at the same time that heat pooled in the pit of his stomach. He squeezed the contents of the tube into his palm and turned towards Sherlock. After giving his own cock a few firm strokes he trailed one slick finger along the cleft of Sherlock's arse, and Sherlock arched into the touch, begging for more. John inserted one finger, then another, moving and twisting slowly to open Sherlock for himself. Sherlock let out a soft moan, and pushed further back onto John's touch. 

"John, I said I was ready ages ago didn't you hear me"

John chuckled. "Yes love, I heard you", and with that he leaned over to kiss Sherlock's neck as he repositioned himself over him, nestling himself between Sherlock's spread out legs. John leaned down to lay on Sherlock's back, trailing kisses up his neck, ultimately nibbling on his ear. John's cock was lined up perfectly straight against sherlocks arse, and John took advantage of the position to tease Sherlock by rubbing it there, up and down. 

"John, please, just do it already"

"Sorry, what was that? What did you want?"

"You, John. Give it to me, now"

"Sorry love, one more time I didn't quite catch that?"

"Please John, I need- I don't know what else you want me to say just for the love of God give me that baguette!" 

If Sherlock hadn't been so desperately undone, John might've laughed (he still smiled) but instead all he could say was "course, love". He stopped his torturous, shallow, grinding to realign himself so that the tip of his cock was just pressing on the edge of Sherlock's opening. Then he pushed into Sherlock with a gasp and a groan, echoing the similar noises that came from Sherlock. John pushed all the way in, burying himself, losing himself in Sherlock, before raising his hips to pull slightly out. He started off with this slow, agonizing pace, but it wasn't long before he couldn't hold himself back. John picked up the speed. Gradually he began thrusting faster and deeper, pushing down into Sherlock with all his strength. It was fast, their hearts pumping as ferociously as John's hips. Sherlock raised his hips to meet John's thrusts, and they rocked together, rolling and bucking in waves of desire and fulfillment. Keeping one hand still on Sherlock's hip, John reached the other one up to twine his fingers in with Sherlock's. Sherlock squeezed back and John thrust in even deeper. 

"Faster John, more, yes, oh, oh god there please more, harder John, hard- oh" 

Sherlock raised his hips off the bed entirely, using his knees to balance, and began using his free hand to stroke himself as John rocked into him faster and faster. John smoothed his hand from Sherlock's hip over to his cock and took over, stroking Sherlock at a rate to match his thrusts. 

"Sherlock I'm not- not gonna-close, so close" 

"Me too, almost there, right there John, yes, yes-"

"Oh Christ oh god I'm gonna-"

"Do it, come inside- oh!- me so I can feel you, come for me, John, do it now"

With a loud moan John's orgasm burst through him as he gave one final hard push into Sherlock. He kept his hand going on Sherlock, and Sherlock followed right away, stifling a cry as his whole body shook beneath John's. 

They collapsed on the bed, a sweaty pile of limbs and heavy breath, their chests rising and falling almost in unison.

John rolled off of Sherlock and onto his back. He stretched out his arm so that Sherlock could roll over into his embrace. Sherlock curled himself around John, nuzzling his head underneath John's chin. John kissed the top of Sherlock's curls and hugged him in close. Sherlock drew lazy patterns on John's chest with his finger as their breathing slowed back to a normal pace. After a while Sherlock spoke.

"I'm glad you were right, John"

"Mmm what's that now?" John was far too lost in his bliss and only registered about half of what Sherlock said. 

"About coming here for this. For us. It's more than I ever dared hope for. Thank you, John. Just. Thank you"

John looked down at Sherlock with nothing but warmth in his eyes. He placed his hand on Sherlock's cheek and tilted his head up so he could kiss him. 

"You should dare, Sherlock. Dare to hope for even your wildest dreams. Because there's nothing that makes me happier than knowing I get to spend the rest of my life trying to make them come true". 

And at that Sherlock curled around John even tighter, responding with all of the love he had in him. John tightened his arms around his husband and they lay there drifting off to sleep, basking in the beauty of a future together.

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this around four in the morning so please excuse any typos or errors I might have missed. Will edit more later!


End file.
